


Bright Eyes

by solidburnreturned



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Crushes, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Movie, and branch is confused about his feelings because self loathing is fun!, biggie is crushing hard on oblivious branch, this is mostly about branch's ptsd, with a hint of gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 13:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15144398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solidburnreturned/pseuds/solidburnreturned
Summary: Branch makes a deal with Poppy that involves him finally attending one of her parties. Biggie's here to keep him company, and thank goodness, because Branch really needs him tonight.





	Bright Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> FINALLY wrote something, I've been so busy I haven't had time! Enjoy yall get ready for a rollercoaster

When Poppy said the party was going to be small and quiet, Branch was thinking more along the lines of maybe ten trolls playing a board game or something. Apparently, she meant something more along the lines of only  _half_ the village attending. Which was still well over a hundred rowdy, belting, shrieking, dancing trolls crammed together in a space that felt like it was shrinking more and more with each passing second.

As soon as Branch had stepped into the already packed party area, he’d gotten the urge to turn on his heel and march right back to his bunker, promise to Poppy to attend at least one party that year forgotten. She’d badgered him into it anyway, at least he thought so. Shoving those pop-up invitations in his face, getting glitter in every stitch of his clothes and all over every inch of his disgruntled face, practically every day for the past two weeks. Fed up, he’d hollered at her that he’d do anything if she’d just leave him in peace. She jumped on this immediately and told him if he just went to this one little party, she’d leave him alone for the rest of the month. He countered that she’d leave him alone for the rest of the year. After some heated arguing, the compromise of Branch having three invitation-less months to himself was reached. He was fully ready to toss all of that away and go back to the silent security of his bunker, but Poppy had somehow spotted him through the crowd, making eye contact and locking Branch into his fate. If he left now, she’d know, and he couldn’t just lie and say that he’d gone to the party, somehow avoiding her the entire night. He was stuck.

So, here he was, huddled by the snacks and drinks table, trembling hand clutched so tightly around his cup of fruit punch that it was about ready to shatter. His usually downturned ears were pricked right up, trying to listen for any approaching threats through the pounding EDM that was shaking the entire village and probably his brain around in his skull. Definitely felt like it. This was a mistake. A  _huge_  mistake. No amount of mini powdered donuts, over-sweet punch, or chocolate cake could convince him otherwise, and you best believe he’d done his best to do so. The stares from the other trolls were not helping his nerves either. Trolls were not subtle creatures. Branch could only deter them for so long with angry glares and defensively crossed arms. He was about ready to cave in on himself, maybe sink into the ground if possible, when Poppy suddenly bounded over from her place atop the giant mushroom, smile spread across her face as usual.

“Hey, Branch!” She greeted him, slightly out of breath from all the dancing and singing (this did not stop her from still dancing next to him, however). “Having a good time? Bet you’re gonna wanna come to way more parties after this, huh?” She nudged her hip into his playfully.

Switching his deer-in-the-headlights expression to his usual grouchy one, he let out a sarcastic huff, guarding his punch from Poppy’s energetic movements. “Yeah, I love huge, sweaty crowds and ear-piercing ‘music.’”

Poppy squealed, sarcasm flying right over her head. “That’s great! You should come dance with me! I know the snacks are  _fantastic;_ Biggie does such a great job with the baking, but you haven’t done anything else since you got here! C’mon!”

Branch dodged her grabbing hands. “Poppy, you said this party would be  _small_ and  _quiet_. Bergens are gonna come crashing through the village any minute with how loud everyone’s being!”

“Come  _on!_ Don’t be so grey, no one’s seen any sign of a bergen in years! Just loosen up!” She made another move to grab his free hand. 

Again, he backed away, back almost against the food table. “No, no way. This isn’t safe, I-”

The sharp crack and boom of a firework exploding overhead cut the survivalist off, his shriek of surprise met with a shriek of excitement from Poppy. 

“Well, fine, Grouchy McGee! If you change your mind, you know where to find me! I got a party to host!” She leapt away, waving over her shoulder. “Tear it up, my man!”

Hand clamped firmly over his racing heart, Branch watched her leave with a mix of annoyance and worry on his face. This was stupid. Risking his life for three months of no invitations was not worth it in the slightest. It’s not like that would deter Poppy from bothering him with other things. She was princess of the trolls, but definitely the queen of exploiting loopholes, he knew that for sure. It would just be best for him to get out now, before some bergen came stomping through, grabbing him up in an instant and-

“Oh, hi, Branch!”

A familiar accented voice tore Branch out of his darkening thoughts. Biggie was ambling towards him, that weird worm of his cradled in one arm. He was the one troll Branch could find himself tolerating out of all of Poppy’s friends due to his more timid, cautious nature. Branch considered Biggie to be slightly like-minded to himself. Slightly. Still obnoxiously happy, still a huge crier when he was both sad and happy, still with a big, bright smile over his face most of the time, still with his little ears twitching when he belted out songs...Annoying. Definitely annoying.

“Hey, Biggie.” He bristled instinctively as Biggie got a bit too into Branch’s personal space.

“Fancy seeing you at a party! Enjoying the food? Me and Mr. Dinkles spent all afternoon cooking and baking for tonight!” He gave the worm a gentle squeeze, earning a mew.

Branch nodded, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously with an over the shoulder glance at the tree line. “Yeah, uh, the cake is good. Do you know how much longer this party is gonna go on for?”

Biggie shrugged, pouring himself a glass of punch. “They usually go until the sun comes up! This party is kinda small though, so maybe it’ll be shorter. Cheers!”

Branch rolled his eyes and clinked his glass with Biggie’s hurriedly, taking a chug. All night? How on earth was that enjoyable? They must all be exhausted by the end of it. What if a bergen was waiting for them to all be in that kind of compromised state, too groggy to have proper reflexes? Unable to defend themselves with their hair, or run fast enough to hide and camouflage? They’d all be slaughtered. A total, complete bloodbath. 

“Branch? You alright?”

The grey troll jumped slightly, blinking quickly. “Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Headache.”

“Music a bit loud for your taste?” Biggie asked with a grin that quickly slid away into an awkward cough when Branch did not respond. The silence did not last long, as Biggie did what he always did when he got anxious: word vomit.

“So, what’s your favorite kind of cake? Mine’s chocolate, but blueberry is starting to grow on me lately. Like, a lot. Maybe I should make a combination cake! Tart mixed with sweet...what do you think?”

Branch, trying to work through his overstimulation to form a coherent sentence, shrugged. “Blueberry is good.”

“Is it your favorite?”

Another shrug. “I don’t eat enough cake to know, I guess.”

Biggie hummed at this information. “What’s your favorite food, then?”

“I don’t know...mayonnaise, I guess.”

“...Really?”

Branch’s ears twitched down in embarrassment. “I don’t know.”

“...You seem kind of on-edge...you sure you’re okay?”

“Oh, I’m just fantast-”

A familiar string of piano notes cutting through the wild applause of the other trolls made Branch’s words catch in his throat. His cup of punch hit the grass.

“Oh, finally, a slow song! I _love_ this one!” Biggie cheered. 

His chubby blue cheeks turned a bit purple as he glanced at Branch out of the corner of his eye. A blue foot started digging shyly into the dirt. 

_Turn around..._

_Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you’re never comin’ ‘round..._

_“_ Branch, I-I know you’re not really one for dancing, but...would you maybe-” Biggie paused mid-nervous-proposal as he glanced at the much smaller troll, his appearance earning a double take. 

Sweat glistened on his forehead, lit up by the strobes that passed over the pair occasionally. His whole complexion seemed to have paled a good handful of shades. Glassy eyes stared straight ahead at seemingly nothing, straight through the paired off trolls in front of him that had started slow dancing. His fists shook at his sides, clenched so tight his knuckles had turned bright white. This drastic change in demeanor flat out frightened Biggie. 

“Branch?” 

_Every now and then I get a little bit_   _terrified and then I see the look in your eyes..._

_Turn around, Bright Eyes..._

God, that song.

“Branch, you okay?”

_Every now and then I fall apart..._

That  _damn_ song...that awful day that it all went wrong, all because of him singing that  _song_. 

“... _Branch,_ you’re  _shaking...”_

His head was going to explode, he was sure of it. His temples throbbed to the cursed beat, his breathing hitched as that horrible chorus approached, God, it’s  _so loud,_ he can’t hear anything other than those lyrics, just like that day, just like that day, just like-

“Branch, do you need to go sit down? Are you sick?” Biggie was on one knee, trying to get the rigid troll’s attention without success.

_And I need you now tonight.._ _._

_And I need you more than ever..._

Knees threatening to buckle, Branch staggered back a step to try and steady himself. He was back in that tree, that prison, that grave they all lived in so blissfully. He was small, so tiny, would’ve been practically invisible if he’d just kept his trap shut, both of them would have, she’d have stayed safe by the trunk if he’d just shut up, just shut up, shut your  _mouth_ you  _idiot_ the bergens are coming-

_And we’ll only be making it right..._

_And we’ll never be wrong..._

_“_ I-I’ll get Dr. Plum, just hang tight-” Biggie gave Branch what should’ve been a reassuring pat on the shoulder, but his anxiety made it much more heavy handed than intended, accidentally shoving Branch forward.

Falling, falling, screaming, it’s so loud, she’s so loud,  _why was he singing so loud._ Hitting the ground hard, and there’s just more screaming, the ground is shaking, he calls and calls and calls but she’s gone, dead, he’s a murderer, it should’ve been him, why wasn’t it him, why did she  _do_ that. The warmth drains out of his body and he’s cold, so cold, and  _grey,_ and  _black,_ and  _empty_ , and he screams and screams, his throat is raw and must be bleeding at this point, his face is dripping in selfish tears, he screams louder, maybe they’ll hear him and come take him too like he deserves, and-

“ _BRANCH!”_

Biggie gives the grey troll a firm shake from his shoulders, finally managing to at least partially snap him out of his disturbed state. He gasped like he’d been holding his breath for the last hour. Biggie’s wide blue eyes were inches from Branch’s, which were overflowing with tears that he wasn’t aware of just yet. Biggie felt Branch’s narrow shoulders tense harshly in his large palms before Branch violently ripped himself away from the giant troll, almost tripping, sprinting away into the forest without a single word. 

“Hey, wait!” Biggie called fruitlessly, snatching Mr. Dinkles up and racing after the panicked troll. “Branch!”

\---

He could not believe what just happened. What a huge mistake. 

Tucked into the knothole of a towering tree trunk, Branch aggressively wiped his eyes, fighting to finally get his breathing back under control. He was also doing his best to stuff his intrusive thoughts back down into that ugly corner of his brain, but that was proving much more difficult. He shoved himself deeper into the cramped little space. Shame burned in the back of his throat along with the stomach acid he’d heaved up a few minutes earlier after nothing else was left. A full on episode, right in front of Biggie, Poppy, and half the village. Maybe the other trolls and Poppy hadn’t noticed,  _maybe,_ but Biggie sure did, he knew that much. Him and that hat-wearing worm. 

Sweaty hands dragged down his face with a low groan. “What were you _thinking_ , moron...” 

He’d have to avoid the giant troll from now on. Really, facing him after that big performance was just out of the question. The thought of not interacting with Biggie made his heart clench in a way he wasn’t quite expecting. Probably just more palpitations. It was really, for the best, that Biggie probably disliked him. He didn’t want Biggie to get close, or Poppy, or  _anyone,_ because they’d just get hurt. It would be selfish to not push him away. For Biggie to not be at the very at least afraid of Branch after that was really just implausible. And Branch was glad. He’d force himself to be glad if necessary. 

A distant call of his name made Branch jump, accidentally smacking the back of his head against the trunk’s wood with a sharp grunt. Maybe he’d underestimated Biggie’s naivety. Did Biggie seriously follow him? Out in the middle of the woods, at night, alone, with no survivalist training, hollering his name loud enough for every hungry predator or bloodthirsty bergen to hear? The humiliation really just had to go on, it seemed, as Branch wasn’t about to let Biggie get eaten alive trying to find his worthless grey self. 

Poking his head out, ears up and eyes wide, Branch spotted the giant troll a few hundred feet away, Mr. Dinkles glowing brightly through the murky blackness. Great, another huge beacon to the tasty meal that was Biggie. 

“Hey! SHHH!”

Biggie stopped short, swinging Mr. Dinkles in the direction of the familiar voice. Branch’s all-too-familiar silhouette became visible as he peered through the darkness. Thank goodness for those ears. 

“Branch! I-”

Branch hissed out some gibberish, flailing his arms, before shushing Biggie again. Biggie bit his lip, a bit startled, before jogging over to the smaller troll. 

“What are you doing out here? Go back to the village!” Branch barked as quietly as he could, scooting back into his hiding place. “And turn off that glow worm!”

Biggie gave Mr. Dinkles a quick squeeze, returning him back to his usual state with a mew. “I wanted to see if you’re okay! What happened back there? You completely froze, or blacked out, or something!” 

Branch hugged his knees to his chest and sighed. “Nothing happened. Just forget it, okay?” 

“Branch, please, talk to me.”

“Why should I?”

“It’ll help you feel better, I promise.”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“No! Go home, Biggie! Just leave me alone.”

Biggie’s eyebrows knitted together, face creasing with growing concern. Branch was a tough nut to crack, he knew. Poppy had been hacking away at that tough, grey outer shell of his for a good number of years. But Biggie knew that he had one advantage that Poppy didn’t: good ol’ anxiety.

“Y-Y’know, I get panic attacks too, sometimes.”

Branch bit his tongue, unable to stop his eyes from glancing up at Biggie for a half second before returning to his feet. He didn’t want to explain that what had happened wasn’t exactly a panic attack. Frankly, he didn’t have the energy. So he decided to stay silent as Biggie continued.

“They’re something awful, I know. Feels like the world is ending and you’re about to bite the dust right then and there. Right?” The small shuffle from Branch was taken as a signal to move forward. “You know what I do to ground myself?” Ignoring Branch’s icy silence, Biggie pulled Mr. Dinkles off of his back and held him in front of himself. “I cuddle with Mr. Dinkles! He always helps calm me down. Saying all the right things, giving the sweetest hugs!” He paused and held his beloved pet out to the still bunched up Branch. “Want to give him a try?”

Branch stared at the worm with distrust. Those creepy glittery eyes stared right into his soul, it felt like. Not his definition of comforting. 

He shook his head curtly. “No.”

Biggie frowned a bit, pulling Mr. Dinkles back up against him. All Branch seemed to want was to be alone, but Biggie couldn’t leave him curled up in this tree all by himself for the night. Not if he didn’t want a fair amount of guilt on his conscience. 

“Well...can I give you a hug, then?”

Branch recoiled a bit, staring at Biggie with suspicious eyes. “...Why do you wanna...help me so bad? I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can, Branch.” Biggie hesitated before he carefully reached out a hand, resting it gently on Branch’s arm, delighted when it was not swatted away. “But...sometimes...it’s nice to have someone else take care of you. Even just for a minute.”

Branch twitched his ears at Biggie’s words, glancing between the large blue hand touching his arm and the warm smile on Biggie’s face. Both trolls were blushing hard enough to be visible through the darkness. Just as he was about to reply, Biggie’s hand slipped away, causing an unexpected twinge of disappointment in Branch’s chest. He watched as the giant troll stepped back a bit and opened his arms up wide, ready and waiting. 

Branch tensed. Yes, secretly, he wanted to accept the hug. Very, very badly. But did he really deserve it? Making Biggie risk his life to come find him in the woods after running off...and then having a pity party in a hole in a tree. What a hassle he was to have around. He needed to push Biggie away, he knew. To accept that hug was to decide to hurt Biggie, because a hug would bring them closer together, somehow maybe cause Biggie to become fond of him, get the wrong idea that Branch had any shred of redeem-ability or whatever. It would be a mistake. But, God, he was so close to just giving in, to just make Biggie happy, or go away, or both.  

Biggie, noticing the face journey Branch was going on as he wrestled with his thoughts, jumped in before Branch could convince himself to remain where he was. “Branch...you really look like you could use one.”

Biggie almost toppled backward as Branch launched himself into his large arms, face buried in his neck which had two grey arms wrapped tightly around it. Biggie hugged back tightly, giving Branch’s dark hair a few gentle strokes. He was trying to work up enough courage to maybe give Branch’s forehead a kiss, but Branch wrenched himself away from the embrace before Biggie could think twice about it. 

“There’s your stupid hug. Don’t you  _dare_ go telling anyone about this,  _especially_ Poppy. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

‘ _You and me both,’_ Biggie thought, knowing the princess was more than aware of Biggie’s slightly obvious pining. “Yeah, of course! Mr. Dinkles promises too.”

Branch scrunched up his nose at the worm as it mewed affirmatively. “Good.” He looked back up at the giant troll, who seemed unsure of what he should do with himself. “Well...as much fun as I’m having in this incredibly claustrophobic hole, I’m going back to my bunker.”

“Oh, alright!” Biggie said in a slightly shriller voice than intended as he watched Branch hop out of the knothole. “G-Good night, then.”

Branch nodded, staring at his feet, which were oddly immobile. His hands were shoved into his back pockets, heat coming to his face as an awkward silence settled on the two. Biggie didn’t seem to be going anywhere, and Branch couldn’t will his legs to get going no matter how much his mind hollered at him to get a move on. 

“...Branch-?”

“I’m gonna walk you home.” Branch blurted gruffly, head snapping up so quickly that a small crack sounded from his neck. “It’s...dangerous out here.”

Biggie nodded vigorously before stopping short, trying not too look  _too_ enthusiastic. “That’s very kind of you!”

“Yeah, yeah. Just try to keep up,” Branch huffed, already headed back in the direction of the village. 

Biggie trotted behind him to catch up. The two traveled through the woods, the silence between them weaved with the sounds of leaves rustling in the wind, far away cries of nocturnal animals, their own soft footfalls, and the distant party music that was growing louder with each slightly rushed step. Both trolls were busy wrestling with their own thoughts. 

‘ _I can’t believe he hugged me!’_

_‘I can’t believe I hugged him.’_

_‘I hope he’ll be alright by himself tonight...’  
_

_‘I hope he’s not too freaked out by me. I wouldn’t blame him, though, honestly. For the best.’  
_

_‘I wonder what caused him to break down like that at the party...would he tell me if I asked him?’  
_

_‘I’m never going to another stupid party again. Ever.’  
_

_‘He’s a very private troll, but maybe if I could just get him somewhere quiet sometime...’  
_

_‘This has got to be the most ridiculous night of my entire life. Why am I doing this? Biggie is an adult, he can get home by himself.’  
_

_‘...Maybe if I bribe him with chocolate cake, I could get him to come back with me to my pod! Just talk with him, get comfortable, get to know him a little better...’  
_

_‘I guess if I’m gonna be stuck playing Forest Guide with anyone, I’d prefer it to be with Biggie...he’s not AWFUL like some of the other trolls. And leaving him alone in this instance could possibly have way more negative outcomes than accompanying him, so I guess that makes it okay.’  
_

Biggie sucked in a deep breath to steel himself. “Br-”

“Okay, we’re here.” Branch said, unintentionally cutting Biggie off. 

Biggie hadn’t even noticed the bright lights and loud music just beyond the row of ferns in front of them. “Oh, that was...quick.”

Branch grunted. “If Poppy asks, just tell her I got a migraine or something from the awful music and went back to my bunker. Okay?”

Eyes downcast, Biggie nodded slowly, not even thinking to question why Poppy would be asking about Branch’s disappearence. “Yeah, sure thing...”

With a firm nod, Branch rolled his shoulders and heaved a sigh. “Okay. Thanks. Night.”

Biggie looked up with a start as Branch started to walk away briskly. “W-Wait!” He called before he stop himself.

Branch paused, looking over his shoulder with a nervous glint in his eyes. He watched Biggie rub the back of his beck, biting his lip, glancing between the dirt and Branch’s confused face. 

“Um...w-would you...maybe, um...would you like to...” Biggie gulped as Branch stared at him hard, sliver eyes studying him with a mix of curiosity and befuddlement. 

He wondered if Branch’s eyes were really silver, or if they had turned grey, too. Plum purple spread over Branch’s cheeks a bit, making his dark freckles more apparent to Biggie, whose heart was racing. He took another deep breath and Branch’s ears twitched in anticipation of finally hearing what the increasingly sweaty blue troll had to say. This made the words catch in Biggie’s throat, bringing them back into tense silence. 

“Biggie, what is it?” Branch said, a bit more snappish than intended due to his discomfort from being stared at.

Worried that his gazing was being interpreted as something cruel, Biggie finally stuttered out, “Th-Thank you for walking me home!”

Branch blinked at him before giving a small, tight smile accompanied by a stiff nod. Biggie smiled back, choking back tears that he was determined to not let fall. Instead, he watched the grey troll turn and disappear into the darkness. His dark colors blended in with the foliage almost instantly. Branch had melted away right before Biggie’s eyes, like the sun during an eclipse. 

_“Turn around, Bright Eyes...”_

**Author's Note:**

> not super satisfied with the ending, but I'm just glad I finally wrote a new biggie/branch fic...I love them so much ;o; I hope you enjoyed, comments are always rad!


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